


Blood Brothers

by shenanakin_skywalker



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Battle of Umbara, Blood, Bromance, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives Needs a Hug, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives is a Good Bro, CT-7567 | Rex Needs a Hug, Clone Abuse (Star Wars), Clone Brotherhood, Clone Cuddles (Star Wars), Dark, Distress, Drama, Everyone is a good bro, Gen, Gritty, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rex is dying and Fives is a wreck, Umbara is a Spooky Place (Star Wars), Whump, clone piles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28136265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenanakin_skywalker/pseuds/shenanakin_skywalker
Summary: Having lost contact with the rest of Torrent Company, Rex’s men struggle to keep their wounded captain, and themselves, alive long enough for help to arrive.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CT-7567 Rex and CT-27-5555 Fives, CT-7567 Rex and CT-5597 Jesse, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 15
Kudos: 89





	1. Apparition

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place soon after Umbara. Check the end notes for Mando’a translations, and I hope you enjoy :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still reeling after the events of Umbara, Rex unleashes the guilt and uncertainty he has fought so hard to cage back. But it’s in the quiet moments when Rex’s ghosts are at their loudest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally an unfinished one-shot I started back in the spring, and it got lost in the archives of my Word account XD But, after lots of revising, I think it makes a fitting prologue to “Blood Brothers.” Thank you for reading!

_You’re in a position of power now. How does it feel?_

Rex unholstered his DC-17 and let fly. A barrage of bolts tore through the stifling air of the empty storeroom and met their mark. Blue sparks dissipated, revealing a charred hole simmering through the slab of durasteel.

He had given up trying to silence Krell’s voice. The general was dead, but he was by no means gone. His infectious last words still seeped into Rex’s thoughts like a poison. If Rex could not silence them, then the only other option was to drown them out. 

Unsatisfied, Rex fired three more rounds. The sound ricocheted off the ceiling. It was a jarring sort of noise, rattling the inside of his skull; yet he found it strangely pleasing. What did it matter if someone heard?

_It feels good, doesn’t it?_

“Kriff right, it does,” Rex said under his breath. Bitterness throbbed in his chest, with an unmatched hate he had never felt before.

This seemed the only relief. Lashing out with all his tireless energy—away from people and noise, away from questions. 

Rex spied the faint flash of his comlink, but ignored it. For once, he didn’t care. If he could just seize this one moment, unleash all the anger he had caged back since Umbara, then maybe he could somehow learn to move on…

_I can sense your fear. You’re shaking, aren’t you?_

Krell’s menacing words struck a cruel cord. Rex knew well enough that he was his own worst enemy. It was impossible to run from his own conscience. 

A scream threatened to tear at the back of his throat. He wanted to shout, wanted to curse. But who else was there to blame but himself? He had been given the opportunity to end Krell. It practically lay in his hand, within the simple pull of a trigger. Over and over, he had the chance to set an example for his men, to be the fearless leader they expected of him. 

And over and over, he had failed. His rigid code, ingrained in him since birth, prevented him from doing what needed to be done. 

For a general to betray the trust of his men, and the Republic they fought to protect, was unthinkable. 

_But a Jedi?_

The Jedi, whose judgment was never to be questioned. The Jedi, their _friends_ , who cared more for the men under their command than they did their own welfare. 

For a Jedi to betray their clones...it was _impossible._

_Or was it?_

Rex found himself questioning everything he had known. Every _one._

Rex hated himself for hesitating that day. It had taken Dogma, a shiny, to get the job done and follow through with Krell’s execution. His faith in all he was and once knew, was wounded indefinitely. How could he possibly learn to trust again, or even trust his own judgment?

He wished, for a split second, that he had someone to explain it to. Someone to confide in, other than his own distorted memory. But that would be selfish, hardly plausible. If he couldn’t understand, then how could he expect someone else to? It was his own mental burden to shoulder, and his alone.

 _You can’t do it, can you?_

Rex paced the floor of the warehouse, subconsciously stamping out the apparition’s taunts. He didn’t remember drawing his other twin blaster. But, before he realized it, Rex was once again attacking the makeshift target with untamed ferocity. Even when his HUD informed him that the steel plate was thoroughly dismantled, he kept on. 

He had been so restrained by programming and unquestioning devotion. Now it was like seeing the galaxy for the first time. Now the blinders were off. Still, the same question prodded at him from the back of his mind:

If he could relive the moment, would he have pulled the trigger?

Rex didn’t know the answer. To put a blaster bolt through the back of an unarmed man was a sickening idea, even a monster like Krell. Next time—if there ever was a next time—he would not hesitate. 

Rex’s hands fell to his side. The pistols hung limp in his fists. The onslaught of blaster fire left the wall behind the target marred, pounded with laser bolts until it was almost unrecognizable. Rex sank onto a stack of crates, feeling just as utterly beaten and broken as the day it all happened. When he had unknowingly slaughtered his own brothers in a crossfire. When he had faltered under Krell’s manipulating hand. 

Faint smoke trailed up to the ceiling as Rex put away his blasters. His fingers glided slowly across the wall’s maimed surface.

_CT-7567, do you have a malfunction in your design?_

“Stop. General—” Rex’s words came out broken and weak as he pleaded with the imaginary voice. 

_Kriff! He isn’t your general._

Rex leaned one arm against the storage wall, clenching his fist in frustration. His entire body shook, as if caught in a Kaminoan gale.

_Are you reading me, CT-7567? I asked you a question!_

Rex’s pulse thundered in his ears. Each breath steadily grew into an ache within his chest, but he hardly noticed.

 _You should have listened to the ARC trooper from the beginning, Captain. He was right! I_ **was** _using you._

“ _Get out of my head!!_ ”

Rex’s fury returned in one last stormy surge. He drew his arm back and lunged at the wall, his knuckles burning upon impact. The only reward he received was a small dent in the wall. It was hardly worth the pain crawling all the way up into his shoulder. 

He was once a steady, confident captain. Now all he felt was failure. 

_That’s all you are. All you’ll ever be. Inefficient. Cowardly._ _Inferior_. _You’re nothing._

Rex sucked in a breath, but his airway seemed to tighten the more he tried. 

_I’m nothing…_

Rex tugged off his helmet and let it drop beside him. By the time he felt his knees begin to buckle, it was too late. He collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. 

Moments dragged on as Rex knelt on all fours, slowly regaining control of his erratic breathing. It was not the first time he had fought off a panic attack. And each time, he thanked the Force no one was around to see it happen. 

Rex tried to pull himself up onto the storage crate, but his worn muscles would not allow it. A kind of paralysis seemed to have swept over him. So there he remained, one arm tucked under his head as he leaned against the side of the cold metal trunk. 

The voice was gone, finally. But he could not erase Umbara. They had finished the campaign; but who was to say their next mission would not end the same way? 

Rex sat up, his back against the crate. The dusky glow of the ceiling lights cast lonely, twisted shadows across the storeroom floor. His eyes wandered the room aimlessly, taking in the stacks of boxes and piles of ammo. He stopped when his gaze settled on the worn helmet laying in front of him. Rex pulled it onto his lap, fingering each familiar groove with solemn care.

He remembered a time when the color was pure white, back when he was only a shiny. Before he had joined in any real battle. Before he understood the cost of freedom. Now it seemed only the dirty relic of a war-weary soldier. 

He turned the helmet over in his hands, glancing over the tally marks etched into the armor. There were far more now, than there used to be. Some of the other boys kept record of kills and successful missions, others of their months of service. But he did it to remember his fallen brothers, a memorial to the men he had lost in the battalion. A sobering reminder of just how detrimental and drawn-out the war had become. Rex rested his forehead against the front of the helmet and sighed. 

Cody was right. Sometimes it was difficult to be the one that survived. 

Rex jolted at the sound of his comlink fizzling to life. Fives’ voice filled the otherwise silent storage room.

“ _Captain? Come in.”_

Rex cleared his parched throat, then clicked on the comm’s mic. 

_“_ Here _.”_

Relief seemed to sweep over the other clone’s voice.

_“Rex, General Skywalker has been trying to contact you. He’s ordered all ranks to report to the hangar. We’re about to come out of hyperspace.”_

“Alright, I’ll...I’ll be there.” 

Rex hoped his brother hadn’t detected the slight stammer in his voice, just dismiss it as a glitch in communications. But a long pause followed.

“ _Rex, are you ok? Where are you?”_

“I’m on my way.”

“ _That isn’t what I—”_

Rex clicked off the communicator and pulled himself to his feet, tucking his helmet under one arm. 

He couldn’t keep on like this—guilt shadowing his days, dreams plaguing the nights. His men needed him here, physically _and_ mentally. He couldn’t lead his brothers into another campaign, with a clouded mind. 

But that was now the only option. 

_I’ll deal with it. Later…_

Rex swallowed back his doubts, and the mounting distrust that had been welling up in him since Umbara. Now was not the time for doubts. His _vode_ needed him, and he would not fail them again.

  
  



	2. Ori’vod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the heat of a campaign, Fives discovers that Rex is gravely wounded.

Fives _hated_ the trenches. 

Dew clinging to his bare face, weighing down the night air in a veil of fog, made him want to tear his skin away. He longed to put on his helmet, shield himself from the sickening cold. But the oxygen here was thin, and breathing was a higher priority than comfort. 

Then there was the waiting. 

_Kriff. The waiting._

There had been no word from General Skywalker or Commander Tano. Transmissions were jammed—whether by the bizarre weather conditions or by some enemy force, they didn’t know. Rex’s team, including Fives, had pushed through the hot zone to the rendezvous point; but the bulk of the battalion led by Skywalker had been caught in a crossfire. 

Now their lines of defense were scattered and stretched thin, some of the men so exhausted they slept through the pain of their festering injuries. Very few had escaped the battle unscathed.

Mortars thundered in the distance, their explosions only faint rumbles and flashes of light through the dense atmosphere. They were safe, for the moment. But who knew when that would change? Who knew when reinforcements would arrive, or a comm come through, ordering them to retreat or push forward? 

Fives rolled over onto his side. He wished, now more than ever, to feel the warm aura of a fire. But even if they managed to light one in these damp conditions, the risk of the enemy spotting them from above was too great. 

He closed his eyes, trying to coax himself to sleep. To dream that he and his brothers were back home onboard _The Resolute,_ far from the swampy ditches and cruel, biting cold of this foreign planet. 

_To dream…_

Fives woke with a start, when the groans from one of his wounded brothers drifted past his ear. He looked around, blinking through the haze. His eyes scanned the ranks up and down. All around him, troopers lay asleep in huddles against the earthen tunnel walls. There was only soft snoring, the occasional pained noise of a trooper fighting off a nightmare. 

But this was different—a string of strangled gasps, stifled coughs somewhere nearby. 

Fives stumbled to his feet, one hand pressed to the wall to keep his balance. He stepped blindly over the still forms of his sleeping brothers. On and on he walked, following the winding trench for what seemed an eternity. The ranks thinned out considerably, until Fives began to wonder if the sound had only been a trick of his muddled imagination.

Then he noticed a crumpled figure partially hidden in the shadows. Tallied white armor, the familiar silhouette of a captain’s pauldron…

_“Vod?”_

The ARC knelt down beside his older brother. Rex’s frame shook as he doubled over in a fit of dry heaves, hand clasped over his mouth. Fives noticed with alarm the tears rolling freely down Rex’s cheeks and onto the ground. His heart froze within him at the sight of his captain crying. 

_Rex never cries...Not when there’s a chance of someone over-hearing._

Fives lay a securing arm across Rex’s shoulders. The captain sat back on his heels, face drained and beaded with sweat. Rapid, shallow breaths escaped his lips. 

“Rex, what…?”

Fives’ gaze drifted to the stray drips of blood coursing from Rex’s mouth, gathering in a small puddle on the clay ground. 

_Kriff._

“Kix!” Fives choked, unable to masquerade the panic in his voice. 

“You’re going to,” Rex gasped, “to give away our position.” 

“It’s alright.” 

Fives knew it was certainly _not_ alright. But all he could bring himself to care about in the heat of the moment was keeping Rex alive. 

_He was fine just a few hours ago, right? He was fine. And now…_

Fives pulled Rex close to his side, steadying him as he slumped into his brother’s embrace. Rex managed to fight the fatigue long enough to keep his eyes open. He glanced around in a daze, as if he couldn’t remember where he was. 

“Don’t worry,” Rex offered weakly. He gave Fives’ arm a less-than-reassuring pat, leaving a streak of crimson across his gauntlet. 

“I’m _not_ ,” Fives said. He could only hope that he did not sound as frantic as he felt. He called again for Kix, praying his voice carried far enough for the medic to hear. 

“Don’t worry,” Rex repeated in a faint whisper. Fives felt the captain begin to go limp in his arms, and he held him fast. “ ‘m fine.”

“Don’t give me that, _di’kut._ Now, where does it hurt?” 

Rex was unresponsive. For several pain-stakingly long moments, all Fives could hear was his brother’s shaky breaths, and the distant quakes of cannon fire. Fear gripped at his chest when he did not get an immediate answer, so Fives shook him gently. Rex grunted and met his eyes, as if suddenly remembering his brother was still there. He reached for his midsection and fumbled to unstrap his armor. 

“Here—” Fives eased him against the tunnel wall, clumsily tugging off his brother’s chest plate. Rex shifted uncomfortably at the movement, but resisted the urge to jerk away. Fives pulled up the black undershirt. Beneath it, a dark, sprawling bruise stretched across the soldier’s abdomen. The sight made Fives’ own stomach churn. 

“ _Rex—!”_ he gasped, but was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps.

“How long has _that_ been there?” 

Tension laced Kix’s words as he appeared at Fives’ side. Rex gave only a half-hearted shrug in return. Irritation blazed in the medic’s eyes, and Rex turned his attention away from the trooper’s reproachful glare. 

“You can’t hide these things, _vod._ You’ll get yourself _killed_ ,” Kix hissed, agitated by his brother’s stubbornness. He sighed, letting his voice resume a gentler tone. “How did it happen?” 

“Today, blast...knocked me off my feet. Hit something…?” Rex’s brow furrowed, as he racked his brain to remember. “Something... it’s just a bruise.” 

Rex tried in vain to pull his shirt back down, but Kix stopped him. 

“No, Rex. It isn’t.” 

He made quick work of examining the wound. When Kix placed a hand on the captain’s torso, Rex cried out in pain. Before he could even register his actions, Rex instinctively gave the medic a hard shove that sent him reeling back. Just as quickly, Fives caught hold of Rex’s wrist and crossed his arms over his chest. He fought against the restraint, struggling to twist himself free. 

“Easy _, ori’vod,”_ Fives soothed, squeezing his brother’s gloved hand. “ _Ke’mot.”_

Fives felt the tension in Rex’s muscles let up slightly, his strength sapped.

“Cody…” Rex swallowed back a sob, hugging his rib cage to relieve the pain. “Need Cody. Where...?” 

“Cody isn’t here, Rex.” 

“Oh.” Rex blinked, confused. He looked over at Kix, who was back at his side once again. “ ‘m sorry,” he murmured quietly. “Didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright, brother. Calm down. Just let me do my job, ok?”

Kix held a hand to the captain’s neck, injecting a syringe of serum into his bloodstream. Rex flinched, his head nodding back against the tunnel wall. Fives’ heart broke at the look of sheer desperation in Rex’s eyes as sleep overtook him. 

When Fives knew for sure that Rex could not hear, he whispered, “Well?”

Kix sighed and glanced up, meeting Fives’ questioning eyes. His face was grave, full of unvoiced concern that Fives understood to mean, _Not good._

“Blunt force trauma,” Kix said. “He’s got internal bleeding. I can’t help him without the proper supplies. He needs an evac.”

 _Slim chance,_ Fives thought. _Our transmissions have been jammed for hours now._

“I’ll try to reach General Skywalker again, or...or anyone I can get.” Fives glanced over at his unconscious captain, whose pain was evident in every shallow breath, even in sleep. “I’ll _keep_ trying.” 

Because he couldn’t lose Rex. 

He _wouldn’t._


	3. Brotherly Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse comforts an injured Rex as time for help to arrive begins to dwindle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love me some clone cuddles (aka “cluddles”). Check end notes for Mando’a translations. Thank you for reading, and Merry CHRISTmas :)

Rex shuddered, suspended between muddled consciousness and what he knew to be the constricting claws of death. He pulled his knees up into the fetal position, grateful for any small relief. It was all he could do to divert his mind from the wildfire of pain tearing at his insides.

He hated for his men to see him like this. Despite his wishes, a few of his closest brothers had found their way through the trench and to his side. It was bad enough that they already knew. But they didn’t need to watch their captain struggle for breath, fight to stay alive long enough for an evac to arrive. They didn’t need to see him bleed out from the inside, to die slowly. Rex wanted nothing more than to disappear, to retreat from view like a wounded animal.

But Rex could get up and move about as well as a Hutt, and his mind felt just as sluggish.

He couldn’t die. His men—his brothers—depended on him. Their numbers had dwindled so much already, and Rex could tell from the tremors echoing through the cold ground that the mission was far from over. They couldn’t afford to lose their commanding officer in the heat of a campaign.

Rex couldn’t muster the willpower to open his eyes, so he contented himself with honing in on the familiar lull of his brothers’ chatter. Somewhere nearby, Fives fiddled with their broken transmitter. Rex didn’t have to see his brother’s face to know he was boiling mad. Every so often, Fives murmured a string of curses, followed by an exasperated sigh loud enough to wake the dead. Tup and Kix tried in vain to calm the ARC’s nerves—afraid that, if they didn’t, they might have yet another medical emergency on their hands.

At Rex’s side, Jesse’s low hum drifted through the chilling night air. Rex listened to the vaguely familiar tune, but was unable to place it. It reminded him of the years before the war, when they were all still cadets fascinated with the glory of the battlefield. When they were eager to march blindly into a barrage on command, no matter who the order came from. When combat was something of a game, and death was only a word.

 _Stang_ , how naive they had been.

But had Rex really learned anything since then? He had been blind enough to follow Krell’s command, after all. Blind enough to lead his men into situations that could have been avoided if he had just _listened_ —to Fives, to Jesse, to his own conscience. Then maybe he could have prevented the carnage before it ever happened. _Kriff_ , he had been stupid enough to fire against his own brothers!

Rex shivered, vaguely aware of the ache beginning to pound inside his skull. A new burst of searing pain welled up in his abdomen, and he couldn’t prevent a stifled cry from escaping his lips. He only hoped it had been quiet enough that the wind had drowned it out of earshot from the others. Rex sighed, surrendering to the shudders that he didn’t know how else to combat.

_Focus on the Force. The Force..?_

Rex racked his brain, trying to remember what Anakin had taught him. But it seemed so long ago now, so distant...

 _Kriff_.

Anakin had told him the Force resides in every living being. Even non-sensitive creatures could pull from it, center themselves.

Maybe those rules didn’t apply to clones.

Rex jolted, rattled by the touch of a hand on his shoulder. He forced his eyes open, and found the face of a clone smiling at him through the haze.

“It’s ok, _vod._ Just me.”

Jesse’s words had a soothing edge that Rex wouldn’t soon forget. The soldier’s face was worn, pummeled from combat and harsh weather. Rex could detect his exhaustion, but Jesse did a fair job at hiding it for his captain’s sake.

Jesse settled in beside his older brother.

“I might be able to start a fire, if you’ll let me move you closer to the rest of—”

 _“No._ ” Rex shook his head, swallowing hard. “No. I don’t want them to...to see…”

“I know. Bad for morale.” Jesse sighed, looking up at the night sky—or where the sky would be, if not for the shroud of murk covering the planet’s surface. “Probably couldn’t start one anyway, on this Force-forsaken mud hole.”

Jesse turned to lay on his side, his perceptive eyes studying Rex carefully.

“How do you feel?”

 _Guuror kyr'am_ , Rex thought. He managed a small, careless shrug, hoping it was enough reassurance to prevent any further questioning.

“Don’t lie, _vod._ Or I’ll sick Kix on you.”

Rex glanced away to where Fives sat against the tunnel wall, nervously running his fingers through his hair. Tup lay a hand on his knee, speaking to the ARC in a low, calming voice as he worked the broken transmitter out of Fives’ hand.

 _It’ll be ok, vod’ika_ , Rex longed to say. But he couldn’t, when he didn’t even have the heart to believe it himself.

Rex felt a slight tug at his side. He turned to find Jesse wrapping his arms around the captain as he pulled him close. Jesse enveloped Rex in a secure embrace, careful not to brush against his bruise.

“What’re you doing,” Rex asked flatly.

“You’re freezing your _shebs_ off, _vod_. I’m keeping you alive.”

“ ‘m not cold.”

Jesse arched an eyebrow. He didn’t seem convinced.

Rex’s eyes fluttered as he struggled to stay awake. He sank heavily into his brother’s embrace, his forehead dropping against the coarse fabric of Jesse’s undershirt.

“Why’re you helping me?”

The question obviously caught Jesse off-guard. He stared down at Rex, eyes full of wonder and confusion.

“What?”

“You trusted me, to protect you. And Fives and...everyone. After Umbara, it’s just, I thought…” Rex’s voice broke. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, gathering his focus. “I lost _so many_ men.”

Jesse shifted, forcing Rex to meet his gaze.

“Tell me something,” he said. “When Krell ordered you to execute me and Fives, why didn’t you go through with it?”

The memory sent chills up Rex’s spine. He knew each man in the firing squad well enough to know they’d never willingly pull a trigger against a brother. They would never discard their love for one another in favor of an order.

“Why did you cover for us when we left for the airbase?” Jesse prodded, his tone gentle. “Why did you stick your neck out for us, and try to take on our punishment afterwards?”

Rex was quiet. Then, in what could hardly count as even a whisper, he said, “Because I love you.”

“See? Everything you did, every choice you made, was out of love for your men. And when you led us against Krell, you didn’t just save our lives, Rex. You saved our dignity.” Jesse ran a gloved hand across Rex’s head, wiping the dew from the captain’s clammy skin. “We look up to you. You’re our _ori’vod,_ _di’kut_. We love you.”

Rex’s gaze fell. He lay in silence, feeling completely unworthy of admiration. After several moments, he said in a soft voice:

“Tell _me_ something.” A small smile crossed his lips. “When did you get wise?”

Jesse returned the smile.

“Shut up and sleep.”

Rex threw him a sharp glare in warning.

“Can’t talk to a superior officer like that,” he rasped. “I’ll have you...transferred…”

Rex felt a gentle rumble as his brother chuckled.

“Sure. Later.”

Jesse placed a hand behind Rex’s head, easing him to his chest. Rex gladly accepted the comfort of having someone close.

The next time Rex woke during the night, he felt the added warmth of Fives nestled against his waist. Tup’s hair draped over Fives shoulder as he snored softly, and Kix flanked the opposite side of the huddle.

Rex dozed, shielded by the makeshift cocoon his brothers had formed. Somehow the cold seemed almost bearable. The pain did not cease, but for now it was enough to know he was not alone. Rex couldn’t help but think that, even if he died right now, he could die content.

He closed his eyes and instantly slipped into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a Translations
> 
> Stang, Kriff—swears  
> Guuror kyr'am—“like death”  
> Vod—brother  
> Vod’ika—little brother  
> Ori’vod—big brother  
> Di’kut—idiot  
> Shebs—backside

**Author's Note:**

> Mando’a Translations
> 
> • kriff—Mandalorian swear  
> • vod—brother  
> • ori’vod—older/big brother  
> • di’kut—idiot  
> • ke’mot—stay still


End file.
